


A Consummation of Sexualization

by peanootzramano



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: M/M, Mentioned Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:43:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanootzramano/pseuds/peanootzramano
Summary: "A recent fluctuation of hormones has also caused Jeremy to realize how unbelievably ‘charged’ he now becomes around his best friend."





	A Consummation of Sexualization

**Author's Note:**

> In which Jeremy comes to realize how bad he has it for his best friend. 
> 
> This idea was submitted to me by my dear friend [MsSedusa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsSedusa/profile)!
> 
> Hope you enjoy, dude!

It hadn’t been particularly long since the consummation of Jeremy’s sexualization.

Pupils blown into magnified vivid pulsations, lips perpetually swollen underneath rosewater kisses, fragile fingertips which itch with an urgency to _touch_. His evenings had transformed from timeless indigo nights spent gyrating his hips across Simba’s plush and matted fur to massaging his cock against the luxury of Madeline’s sensationally supple inner thighs. Sensitive lips, once horrendously chapped from the brittle Jersey air, are now beautifully _soft_ from whatever wet lips have captured his own. Even his hands, which would fist nervously at the loose threads falling from the hem of his cardigan, are now pressing eagerly between his legs to put on a ludicrous display for whomever might be watching. _Thriving_ on such viewership.

A recent fluctuation of hormones has also caused Jeremy to realize how unbelievably ‘charged’ he now becomes around his best friend.

Especially in moments like _this._

Michael prances around his kitchen with such unashamed _delight_ that it rolls off his pores in waves. His hair has reacted wonderfully to the humidity – those tight little ringlets volumized by sweat and his boyfriend’s messy palms desperately seeking purchase. His skin smells unmistakably musky; a fragrance formulated by _sex_ and _cum_ and _cologne_. Crimson rosettes blossom across angled clavicle and down toward a handsomely distended stomach in an unmistakable illustration of Rich’s gnashing teeth. Even just standing there – loose Reptar boxer-briefs and an undeniable limp tilting his hip – he is the epitome of confidence and passion.

Swagger is not a word often (if ever) associated with Michael Mell. And yet it absolutely _spills_ from him.

Truth be told, Jeremy had hoped he would catch Michael in a situation as ‘untimely’ as this. It had taken several impromptu visits to do so: lingering around overgrown hedges at twilight or mid-afternoon outings in search of homework which Jeremy had already completed. Having a key to your best friend’s complex little world certainly had its advantages, not the least of which was an all-access pass to whatever knockoff cereal had been purchased in bulk that month.

So there Jeremy sits, mouth loaded full of artificial marshmallow and melted circles, watching as Michael hovers around his fridge.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” He muses, each syllable fighting to be pronounced through convulsing lungs.

Jeremy makes a distant noise of distracted approval. Eyes transfixed on a rather large bead of crystalline heat drip-drip-dripping down golden abdomen and amidst thick black curls. A trail of monumental happiness.

Michael moves his hand and for a minute Jeremy swears he has been caught in the act. Staring at Michael’s dick through his underwear and trying to will supernatural vision into his eyes so that he may bypass material and see exactly what he came for. But no.

Instead, he finds those dark fingers brushing against the weight of himself and _squeezing_ at his thickness. Pleasure temporarily paralyzes his position; a gasp falling like glitter from furled lips. It’s obvious – from how he sways and s h i v e r s – that his orgasm has not yet completely dwindled.

Through cartoon eyes and petite molars, Jeremy can just barely witness the unnatural curve of Michael’s cock. How _wonderful_ that slope had felt within his inexperienced palm. All lubed up from shared perspiration between coiled fingers which had pulled and plucked and pumped.

Oh, if he could see him now. Nothing would please Jeremy more than showing Michael (and Rich!) everything he has learned over the past few months. After all, there is _absolutely_ an untapped hole with Michael’s name on it.

Heat swims in a crimson arc across Jeremy’s throat and shoulders. Tangerine flames lap across curled cartilage. He shouldn’t be thinking such things – his friends are more than happy disposing of bedsprings together. One unit. No Heere in here.

“You want some?” Michael asks, one hand remaining firmly wrapped around his cock. He leans across the breakfast bar where Jeremy perches, his eyes swollen and bright, lips smacking together. Perhaps the vibrations will knock his stutter back into alignment.

Solidify those sticky s’s.

Tuck together those tricky t’s.

Unify ungrateful u’s.

“S-Sorry, what? U-Um...” A rush of breath. Fuck, his face is burning. “Wouldn’t th-that be ... uh.. inappropriate?”

Long lashes flutter over Jeremy’s uneven cheekbones. And yet, not once does he remove his vision from the splay of those fingertips.

“I-I mean… are you sure you’d be like… ready right now?”

Michael raises an eyebrow, his teeth tangling through the flesh of his bottom lip. “I know I just had some but it sorta takes more than that to put me off, dude.”

_Click!_ Open.

_Click!_ Closed.

_Click!_ Open.

Jeremy just can’t seem to settle his beautifully kinetic lips. Michael, fucking _Michael_ , is finally offering a taste at something almost forgotten on a rather… busy palate. Preoccupied. Right there – a mere wrist roll away!

The sound of liquid sloshing beside scarlet ears is enough to counteract lingering hypnosis. Goosebumps, falling like snow on opalescent flesh, align perfectly down Jeremy’s crooked spine.

Michael shakes the carton again. “It’s just some juice, dude. Not like I can overdose on too much vitamin C.” 

Jeremy can feel himself sink into the tile.

“Right. Juice.” 


End file.
